Court Jester
by spacebongo
Summary: 'I want her to dote on me when I return from my patrols of the kingdom.  I want her words whispered in my ear so that I might find glory in each syllable that Sir Charles ignores.  Above all I want her to love me...'


This is part medieval story and part fairytale. Based on an idea I had about what could have happened had Bella been Chief Swan's wife instead of daughter.

**Court Jester**

My goblet is always filled by a different scantily clad girl. This one is young, certainly no more than fourteen years old, and is tall for her age and straight with hair like spun gold as it tumbles down to her tiny waist. I suppose I should find her beautiful because everybody else certainly does—Carlisle cannot help but stare after her as she sashays between my cup and his, Emmett is as smitten as I have ever seen him, and even Jasper with his vow of chastity finds it difficult to keep his eyes focussed to his plate as he usually does. But from the moment I saw the girl I thought of only one thing: the white-gold of the hair on my mother's head and that image brought with it a slew of feelings so powerful that every other feeling has become masked underneath.

But that reaction is not purely reserved for serving girls or boys, for Carlisle is desperate to prompt something in my useless loins even if the result is unholy, with yellow hair; when I see a brunette I think of my father's dark eyebrows. A redhead prompts despairing wonderings of whether my elder brother's hair would have eventually darkened as mine and my father's had. It is rather pathetic really that I, the King, am still a virgin at the ripe old age of seventeen when other men my age are married or betrothed or happily taking advantage of the loose morals provided for them at court. It is especially more pathetic that I am a virgin when there is a person almost perfectly suited in mind and body to not only enflame but also quench the passion of my lust.

But if Lady Isabella Swan, and her tumbling black hair, is perfect for me she is also married to Sir Charles, and has been married to him for longer than I have been aware of my singular passions; it would be unfair of me to deprive her of a stable and reputed home by confessing the true of my feelings. I am able to offer much to a prospective lover; wealth, titles, precious jewels, love, everything except legitimacy and I do not want that life for the woman I love. And so I watch as she is ignored by her taciturn husband so that he may better converse with Carlisle and Emmett about the latest advances in warfare, and wonder longingly about what I would say to her had she been mine.

One word, I think bitterly as I gulp down the contents of my goblet; I just need to utter one word about my feelings for Lady Isabella and I know that Carlisle would not hesitate to swoop down and secure her for me by any means possible. He has waged wars for me, the most recent with the savages in the north when he snatched their chief priestess' only daughter after rumours of her beauty filtered to his home in the Northern Borders, and I know without a shadow of a doubt that he wouldn't hesitate to sacrifice himself for any of my whims; but I want more for Lady Isabella than life as a pawn in the games of men.

I want her to dote on me when I return from my patrols of the kingdom. I want her words whispered in my ear so that I might find glory in each syllable that Sir Charles ignores. Above all I want to make her happy but that is impossible. My position would not allow it.

"You are staring again," Emmett nudges me subtly under the table to get my attention and I quickly lower my eyes to the untouched food on my plate. "Too late. Carlisle has noticed," I swivel in my seat to find that Lord Carlisle has indeed noticed and is watching me with an almost hopeful expression on his face. "Fuck."

"He cannot speak to her," I tell Emmett under my breath. "Tell him that I forbid it and that as my Marshall you can imprison him if he disobeys."

"Yeah," Emmett snorts, "Like that would work on him."

xxx


End file.
